Alcohol
by mrsfigg22
Summary: DMRWSlash, Angst, Jerk!Harry, Heavy Alcohol Usage. Harry leaves Draco broken hearted, can Ron pick up the pieces? summary not really efficient in explaining


HO. DAMN.

Are you guys in for a treat or what?? I mean, I've never written anything like this before, I've never put so much time into one idea and developed it as I have with this, and I really think that it's heading somewhere! Gah, I can't wait!!!

I decided that "alcohol" would be my motif for this story...it's really an interesting thing, has different meanings behind it, and I really hope you guys don't think I'm overdoing it. If the story goes as I planned it, the three parts are these: **Addiction, Withdrawal, Recovery.**

WARNINGS: Homosexuality, excessive drinking...really long-ness...

Disclaimer: Definition of "addiction" from WordNet (also, see general disclaimer in profile)

**--**

**Addiction:**  
_noun_  
1. Being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming (especially alcohol or narcotics)

--

Ron was eating breakfast when Harry's face appeared in his kitchen.

The fireplace roared to reveal the face of his best friend, and the eggs he had been about to shove into his mouth fell off his fork and into his lap. Ron stood up quickly, the pile of half-eaten eggs falling onto the floor, and approached the fireplace.

"Harry! How's France? I read that the team's on the top of the league," He pulled up a stool and sat closer to the fire.

Harry grinned, "Yeah, it's going great actually..." He paused and looked away for a while as he listened to someone on the other side of the fire. He nodded and smiled then turned back with a serious expression on his face, "Listen, Ron. I'm sorry, I have to be quick. I don't have much time. I don't…I don't think I'm coming back. To England, I mean."

Ron, completely thrown at the sudden change in topic, blinked at the fire for a minute before managing,"What're you –"

"I just... It's not any of you, it's that I just can't deal with the ministry and the wizarding world and…everything," Ron could tell Harry was struggling to come up with a reason that didn't make him sound like a schmuck, but he was floundering terribly.

Ron stood up angrily, "And…what about all of us, your friends, then, Harry? You're just going to throw us away? What about –"

"Don't, Ron. This is hard enough. I'm not throwing all of you away. I'm just…relocating."

"Relocating?" Ron asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, relocating," Harry seemed happy with is answer, and nodded as he said it.

Ron crossed his arms and frowned, "So you're coming back to move your stuff then."

Harry looked away awkwardly, "Well, I was hoping you could send it for me. Maybe you and Hermione could go to my apartment and pack it up?"

"Why can't you come? It's just an apparition or two away."

"I just think it would be harder to say goodbye," Harry's expression was hidden; for the first time ever Ron had no idea what his best friend was thinking. It left him feeling completely helpless.

"That's not fair at all, Harry. You can't just do that to your family, your friends, to –"

"Listen, I can't stay, really. Could you tell everyone for me? I'll call again to get my stuff. Maybe you could get it all in your fireplace and floo it or something. I've got to go," and with a whoosh Harry's face was gone, leaving Ron to stare in bewilderment at his dirty fireplace.

---

Ron knocked on the door nervously. Hermione's hand tucked warmly into his did little to quell his apprehension.

The door opened and Ron stared at the pointed face for a moment until Hermione elbowed him, "Er, hello, Draco. How are you?"

Draco smiled and held the door to the apartment open for them, "I'm okay. A bit lonely recently, but fine. As soon as this tournament's over things will return back to normal."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances as they took off their shoes. The three proceeded to the living room, and Hermione and Ron sat on the couch as Draco went to get wine.

"Would either of you like something to drink?" Draco offered, beginning to pour himself a glass.

"Actually…it would probably be better if there was no glassware involved," Ron warned, and Draco set down the glass and bottle, a worried expression on his face.

"What is it? Did something happen to –"

"No. No, not at all. Well, maybe," Ron noted the frightened expression on Draco's face and decided to just come out with it, "You see, Draco, Harry flooed me this morning, and well, he said…" Ron looked at Hermione and she nodded for him to continue and gave his hand a squeeze, "He said that he's not coming back. At all."

Draco looked like he didn't understand, "What? I, you mean I'm supposed to move there, with him?"

Ron shook his head and Draco's expression of confusion deepened, "I don't think he wants that. It seemed like he wants to wash his hands of the United Kingdom," as Ron said the words he cringed as they just sounded even worse than when Harry had said them.

Draco let out a nervous laugh, "But that can't be…he can't…" When Draco saw the pitying expressions on Hermione and Ron's faces he grew angered, "Why didn't he call me? Why did he avoid me?"

"I…don't know," Ron had been wondering the same thing.

Draco looked away, furious, "I knew it, bloody afraid of confrontation,"

"I'm…sorry, Draco. Really."

"Don't be. I knew Harry had issues, I just…thought we had figured it out. Apparently not," Draco buried his face in his hands.

"Should we go?" Hermione asked, speaking for the first time all night.

"No. I guess while you're here we should pack up his things, right?" Draco muttered darkly.

"Actually, I was thinking we should punish him and force him to come over," Ron suggested.

"Weasley, please. I'm not helping him move. I'm kicking him out, whether he's in Britain for me to scream at or not," Draco stood up and Ron and Hermione watched as he proceeded to open a closet, pull out two large suitcases, and levitate them into the bedroom. Ron and Hermione slowly stood from the couch and followed him.

--

The room was a mess by the time they entered. The bags were open and on the bed. The drawers of the dresser were falling out and the closet doors were thrown open. Draco was chucking Harry's slightly larger clothes into the bags haphazardly.

"Draco, maybe you should-" Ron paused, dodging a pair of flannel pajamas, "wait a bit, until you've calmed down?"

"Why?" Draco turned around, tears streaming down his face, "He basically chose to break up with me in the shallowest, most coldhearted way possible – why should I wait until I calm down? Isn't this what people do when their heart has been savagely ripped out? Aren't I supposed to be going ballistic?" As Draco asked these questions he grew more hysterical, tears pouring down his cheeks as he stumbled to pack Harry's things.

Hermione joined in after Draco's crying began to inhibit his packing. Ron stood there, watching this breakdown and wondering how Harry could do this. How could one of the best people on the earth abandon their friends and family?

Eventually Draco collapsed on the bed and cried. Ron sat next to him and rubbed his back awkwardly as Hermione finished folding the clothes neatly.

"Draco, would you like to stay with Ron or me for awhile?" Hermione asked, "I don't think it would be good for you to stay here alone."

Draco wiped his eyes and said, "I'll stay with Weasley."

"Sure." Hermione nodded and folded a pair of socks, "Man talk and stuff,"

"Actually no, Granger. More like Weasley has more alcohol and actually knows how to make a cup of coffee."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron laughed. "It's true Hermione. Your coffee tastes worse than piss."

She was opened her mouth to retort, but then nodded and flicked her wand, snapping the bags shut and levitating them towards the door.

---

"Just make yourself at home, alright? What's mine is yours," Ron said as he opened the door to his flat.

Draco walked in and began to take a tour, calling, "Thanks Weasley. I know you and I never really connected, but it really means a lot to me"

"Please. It's not a problem. Actually, it's my pleasure. Maybe it'll make things more exciting," Ron did feel out of place a bit, being more civil to Draco than he had been before, but right now a lot of things were going wrong, and he was just going to have to go with it.

Draco poked through the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet, letting out a low whistle, "How could it ever be boring around here, with all this alcohol. Merlin, Weasley. If I didn't know better I'd say you were a drunk," He pulled out two full bottles of vodka with wide eyes and turned to Ron in shock.

Ron put them back, shutting the door and rolling his eyes, "Just because I drink a nightcap or ten every night does not make me a drunk."

"No, it makes you pathetic. Who drinks on their own?"

"Well, when one is single and socially awkward, it happens very easily."

Draco let out a small laugh and reopened the liquor cabinet, pulling out one of the bottles of vodka and two shot glasses, "Well, tonight you're going to have company."

---

The next morning found Ron with a pounding hangover. All he could remember was that both of them had gotten ridiculously drunk and were singing muggle show tunes at the top of their lungs until Draco passed out on the couch. Ron had left him there and stumbled off to bed himself before he passed out as well.

He walked slowly into the kitchen and pulled out a pan and a bowl and some eggs, deciding that his headache was too strong to make sunny side up, and hoping that Draco liked scrambled.

As he began to whisk the yokes the fire flared again and in a weird sort of Déjà vu, Harry's head appeared.

"Ron! Sorry I had to leave so fast yesterday, I was –"

Suddenly Harry was cut off as Draco (who had come out of nowhere) smacked him across the face, via fire. Frankly, Ron didn't think it was possible to slap someone during a floo, but apparently he was also wrong.

"How could you, you slimy bastard? Breaking up with me through your best friend! Of all the low, disgusting –"

If it was possible, Harry looked paler, "Draco! How did you find out?"

"I told him, Harry."

Harry turned to Ron, surprised, "Why did you do that? You've completely messed things up!"

"You asked me to tell everyone, Harry. You never mentioned anything about not telling him. And even if you had told me never to tell him, I still would have. He was your boyfriend, your lover, he deserved to know first, even before me. And it's not my fault things are messed up right now, is it Harry?" Ron glared darkly at his best friend's flickering face.

Harry ran his hands through his hair, "I was trying to wait for a proper time."

"Oh, and what? You couldn't just apparate home for an hour to explain? What is a proper time, Harry? Never?" Draco seethed.

Harry suddenly paused and asked, "Wait, what is Draco doing at your flat, Ron?"

"Oh, didn't you hear? We're having a passionate affair, Potter," Draco drawled sarcastically.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Me and Hermione thought it would be better if he didn't stay alone in your apartment overnight after your savagely ripped out his heart, so I brought him here. I didn't realize you'd show up again." Ron knew he was being a bit vicious, but he was seriously disappointed in his friend.

Draco stepped forward, "Don't try to change the subject, Potter. I've packed up all your crap and I want it gone for good."

Harry tried to be cheery, "Oh good, I was hoping you'd help me move out."

"Don't be a dolt, Potter. I'm kicking you out. There isn't a chance in the world I'd keep your garbage."

Ron cut in, "Maybe I should leave you two to er, have it out then? Right, bye," he doubted they had realized he was still there anymore, and decided it was best to remove himself from the situation.

He darted out of the kitchen and was about to go inside his bedroom when he heard Draco say in a broken voice, "Who is he, Harry?"

Ron felt his heart contract and paused with his hand resting on the doorknob. He knew it wasn't his business, but if his best friend was going to break someone's heart like this, he felt he should listen in.

He heard a pause and then Harry admitted, "He's an art teacher at a college nearby. He came to a match a week ago and wanted to meet me. I didn't expect to feel this way, because of what I feel for you. Yes, I still have feelings for you, Draco, but Etienne, that's his name by the way, he's…like my other half. Draco, this won't be easy for me either. I still have to get over you, and that's why I didn't want to see you, I thought it would be easier if I didn't have to tell you to your face. I didn't think –"

"You didn't think? Well, yes, that's fairly obvious, Harry, isn't it. I can't believe I allowed myself to fall in love with such a dirt bag."

"Draco –"

"No, Harry. Stop it. I don't want to hear your excuses, because no matter what you say my heart will still be broken, you've made sure of that. I'll get Weasley to send your stuff, but I never want to see you again."

Ron heard a pause, and then Harry's voice, "Alright, Draco. Good bye."

There was a whoosh and then a broken sob. Ron entered the kitchen and found Draco knelt by the fire, his face buried in his hands.

"Draco?"

Draco tried to hide his tear-stained face, but it was difficult as Ron crouched down closer. The blonde sniffed and looked up with a bitter smile, "Weasley. I think now's a good time to get me ridiculously drunk and passed out…again."

"Sorry, Draco, but it's too early for that. If we don't watch ourselves we're going to turn into raving alcoholics."

Draco snorted, "I could think of worse things."

--

Living with Draco was different than Ron expected. They got along remarkably well, and it led Ron to wonder why they hadn't been better friends before.

"No, seriously," Draco slurred, refilling his rum and coke and nearly tipping the whole thing over in the process, "What is it exactly that's going on between you and Her-Her-Mihny. I mean…you are always holding hands and…stuff."

Ron, having learned how to handle his alcohol, was in a better condition than Draco and responded in a slightly clearer voice, "We're just really close friends. We used to date…actually we fancied the hell out of each other…but then we realized love just wasn't enough. We couldn't stop fighting. She was too bossy, and…I…was just not proper for her."

"That blows, it really does. We all are taught how love conquers eeeeeeeverything." Draco shook his head emphatically, "Shit. Absolute shit. I mean…shit."

"Draco, now that I've got you horribly drunk, can I ask you something?" After seeing Draco's nod he continued, "What's it like, sex with another man? I mean, I've always wondered, at least since Harry came out."

"Oh, man, it's the BEST. Best. Bessy. Best. Best."

Ron really wanted to know this, but Draco, it seemed, was almost too drunk to form coherent sentences, "But what do you mean, it's the best?"

"You can both give…and receive. And it's like…other men…we know EXACTLY how they like it, you know? Girls…well they're okay, once they've got the hang of it, but we just KNOW."

"Who was your first?"

Draco snorted, "I don't really remember. Some guy...I remember he had a lot of piercings...met at a pub, he was really nice, but poor as dirt, so I left him the next morning,"

"Were you Harry's first?"

Draco seemed to sober up a bit and turned to Ron, "Why are you so curious about it? Thinking about coming over to the dark side?" He cocked a pale eyebrow, "I'd be willing to give you a test run, if you'd like. I'll have you know I'm the best shag around,"

Ron sputtered and finally managed a loud, "NO!"

It wasn't just the getting drunk part either. Draco kept an impeccable house; Ron was never afraid to have guests as the flat was always sparkling. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, he never gave bullshit, and was always straightforward in his answers.

One morning as Ron was heading off to work, he paused in the kitchen to ask Draco if his outfit was okay. But before he could even form the words, Draco, without even looking up from the paper said, "No. You clash terribly, go back and change,"

While this left Ron particularly grumpy for the rest of the day (he hadn't thought it was THAT bad) at least Draco hadn't let him go off to work like some fashion-deficient fool (Which Harry had done more times than Ron could count, resulting Ron's frequent embarrassment at the office later).

So for the first few weeks, things were quite nice, and eventually Draco went back to work and insisted upon paying half the rent. It took a few more days for it to sink into Ron's head that Draco Malfoy was now officially his flat mate.

And since they were flat mates, Ron felt it was only fair to invite Draco to stay with him in his winter cabin over their Christmas breaks.

Draco looked up from his _Witch Weekly_ with a stunned expression, "You can afford a getaway, Weasley?"

Ron just rolled his eyes and snorted. Draco, in a very uncharacteristic move, apologized and corrected himself, "Sorry...I mean, definitely, if I'm not a burden."

Ron felt it only fair Draco be warned, "Now, it's not some luxury mansion, but it's a little cottage in Switzerland, nice and snug."

"What do we do there?"

Ron shrugged, "Whatever we feel like: Go to town and get drunk, ski, snowshoe, dogsled."

"What's 'ski'?"

"It's a muggle thing that Hermione taught me when we were dating, it's really fun. Sounds silly, but you tie these flat sticks to your feet and go down hills really fast..."

Draco looked at Ron for a moment as if he were crazy and then let out a slow, "…Okaaaay."

After a moment of silence, Ron finally sighed and said, "Maybe we should just stick to getting drunk."

"Yeah," Draco said quickly, ending the discussion and hurtling into his room to pack.

--

"How long are you two going to be away for?" Hermione asked Ron over coffee the next morning.

They were sitting inside a small café close to the ministry so she could meet him before they left. Normally they ate outside, but even with warming charms, the muggles would look at them oddly if they did so in the middle of winter.

"Probably the entire Christmas break. I'm going to stop by the Burrow and wish them all a Happy Christmas before I leave."

"Your mum's going to fry you when she finds out you're not spending Christmas with them," Hermione warned as she finished off her coffee.

"Well, Draco's got nowhere to be and I think he would just feel awkward there. We'll just have a private Christmas together, most likely getting smashed."

"You two have been spending a lot of time together," Hermione said speculatively.

Ron sensed the conversation going somewhere uncomfortable so he said defensively, "So? We're flat mates and good friends, isn't that what we're supposed to do? Spend a lot of time together?"

"You never spent that much time with Harry," Hermione reasoned. Harry's name hadn't been brought up in awhile and Ron felt his shoulders stiffen protectively.

"Harry had Draco then, there wasn't as much time for us to spend together."

"Yeah, but I just think that it's…odd how you two are going to have a 'private' Christmas. That's all."

"Like I said, Hermione. He's got no one to spend it with, and I'm really the only person he's got right now. You're reading too much into things, like usual."

They were silent for a moment as the tension in the air relaxed and Ron finally asked, "So what are you doing over your break?"

"I'm only going to take a few days off, there's too much to get done. I'll just go visit my parents for a bit, maybe drop by to see Molly and Arthur."

Ron nodded, "Well, I guess I've got to let you get to work then, huh?"

Hermione stood up and put down the money for their drinks, "I guess so," She crossed the table and hugged him, "I hope you two have a nice Holiday. I'll see you in January."

He hugged her back and said, "You too, don't work so hard, 'Mione. Enjoy the time off for once. I'm not going to be here to make sure you do, so promise me you'll get out and at least get tipsy."

She pulled away and laughed, "I'll try, I promise. Maybe you should try a bit of temperance, you know? Maybe _not_ get drunk for once?"

He laughed "You're probably right," and kissed her cheek before pulling on his jacket and scarf and finishing, "But that doesn't mean it's going to happen."

She clicked her tongue reproachfully and said, "I've always said that one thing your mother taught you was moderation in your consumption habits."

He flicked his hand in dismissal as he walked out the door and gave her a playful smile. She always told him he drank too much, and he had to admit that with Draco around he probably did it twice as much as he had used to.

--

Hermione's prediction about Molly Weasley and her reaction to hearing that Ron wouldn't be spending Christmas at the Burrow was just about accurate. She pushed him into the "lecture" chair and prodded him about the importance of family, and spending time with relatives, and how she was making an excellent roast just for him.

"But mum, Draco's got no one, and he would be completely uncomfortable here."

"Why on earth would he be uncomfortable?! We're a nice family, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but you remember our old relationship with the Malfoys, don't you? You think he wants to spend Christmas with a family that he used to ridicule? I just don't want to put him in that situation."

Molly Weasley stared at her son for a moment, and finally said sourly, "Fine," and stalked to the kitchen to finish dinner.

The family ate quietly, with the twins staring at Ron in wonder as to how he could anger their mother so and get away with it. Bill and Charlie, needless to say, didn't notice anything was wrong, along with Arthur and Percy, but Fleur immediately swept up the plates and headed into the kitchen to wash them so that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't break them.

Molly allowed her son to hug her goodbye and wished him a Happy Christmas but for once didn't send him off with a hug box of cookies and truffles. He shook his brothers' hands and finally apparated back to his flat, where Draco was waiting.

--

Ron entered the flat and found the front foyer full of luggage. He found his way around it all and went into the kitchen, where Draco was sitting in his pyjamas, sipping a glass of red wine and reading a tabloid with Harry's face on the cover.

"The tabloids have finally got one right, it seems," Draco explained calmly, "'Harry Potter Finds New Love in Paris, Leaves Millionaire Boyfriend for French Honcho'" He looked up with a smirk, "Well, there you go. The only important thing about me is that I'm rich, and the only important thing about this 'Etienne' guy is that he's attractive. They've mostly got it right, except that…oh where was it…" Draco flipped through the article, "ah, I _believe_ that I never said, 'I feel like going over there, finding him, and begging him to take me back,' Merlin, they make me sound like a ninny," He threw the magazine down with disgust and finished off his wine.

"Draco, is that mountain of luggage in the foyer only yours?" Ron asked, pouring himself a glass.

"No, I've packed your things as well. And I've bought you new underwear, yours was absolutely hideous, so I threw it all in the fire."

"Alright, then that saves me the trouble, thanks," Ron said, taking a sip, and strangely enough not minding at all that Draco had found his undergarments so hideous the only thing left to do was burn them.

"The pleasure was mine. I'll not have you going out in public looking like you normally do. I purposely packed clothing I knew you couldn't possibly clash,"

"Well, thank you then. We wouldn't want you seen with someone whose clothes are mismatched."

"Of course," Draco said, somehow missing the sarcasm and pouring himself more wine.

Ron just shook his head and laughed, glancing down at Harry's smiling face on the discarded tabloid and wondering how on earth the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't satisfied with someone as amazing as Draco.

--

"This is it?" Draco asked, looking around in horror at the three-room cottage.

"I said it was 'nice and snug'. Besides, it's very relaxing when you get used to it," Ron said defensively.

"More like claustrophobic," Draco muttered sullenly.

"Listen, I'll magic the bed into two twins so you won't have to sleep on the couch."

"THERE'S ONLY ONE BED?" Draco yelled incredulously.

"Yeah. One bed, one bath."

Draco sat on the droopy couch, defeated, "One…bath…"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Yes, Draco. It's a three-room cottage."

Draco just held his head in his hands and moaned.

"Well, I'm sorry but normally it's just me here, I don't need much."

"Well that's apparent," Draco drawled, and stood up, waving his wand and sending his luggage into the bedroom, "So, if you don't need much, you can take the couch."

"Draco that's not fair, I'm not good enough at Transfiguration to turn it into a bed, just let me turn the queen into two singles."

"You may have cut me out of my own bathroom, but you are not going to share a room with me, no way," Draco said flippantly, walking the two steps to the bedroom and shutting the door firmly.

--

The next morning Ron woke to an achy back and a grouchy Draco.

Instead of his favored route in making breakfast by hand, he decided to go easy and conduct it with his wand.

A few minutes later Draco came out of the bedroom, an afghan still hung over his shoulders, "That room was FREEZING! What, do you have anti-heating spells in there to make sure no one is comfortable?"

Ron shrugged, "I guess I just like to pile on the comforters, there's a huge pile in there, did you use them?"

Draco scowled, "Of COURSE I bloody used them!" He groaned and held his head with one hand, "I don't think I got an ounce of sleep all night."

"Sorry, you can take a nap on the couch, in front of the fire if you'd like. I thought we'd go out ice fishing, but it can wait until tomorrow."

"Ice…fishing?" Draco stared at Ron, confounded.

Ron explained slowly, "We drill holes in the ice to fish through."

Draco sat on the couch and pulled Ron's blankets over his body, "Yes, but fishing is terrible enough as it is, why would anyone do it in freezing winds?"

"Because it's exciting when you DO catch something. And there's nothing you can do about it. Either you can stay at the cabin all day with nothing to do or you can come with me."

"Fine," Draco grumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around his shoulders.

"Why did you come along if you don't want to do anything? What did you think we'd be doing?" Ron asked, curious.

There was no response, and when Ron turned around, Draco was pretending to be asleep, and trying to hide the little flush to his cheeks.

--

Ron decided to go out on his own and left the cottage, heading to the small lake nearby on foot. There he met up with several local fishermen that he had met over the past few years. After catching several catch-and-releases he found a ride in one of their trucks and enjoyed a beer in town with them before heading back.

As he opened the creaky door he hoped Draco might still be up; Ron had felt bad leaving him all alone for the day, but something about Draco's unwillingness to try new things bothered him. They couldn't just spend the whole break getting drunk.

But as he entered the living room he saw the empty wineglass on the counter and realized Draco must have given up on waiting for him and gone to bed. Ron sighed and stumbled over to the couch, exhausted. Something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what.

As he pondered this, he heard the bedroom door creak open and footsteps heading to the couch. He felt Draco sit gently on the other side, near Ron's feet.

"Are you awake?" the shadow whispered.

Ron sat up and reached for the light, but Draco stopped him, holding his wrist with a cool hand.

"I've had some time to think. And there's something I want to tell you."

Ron leaned forward, "What is it? Is something wrong? I knew I shouldn't have left you,"

Draco shook his head, "No, nothing's wrong, and I'm glad you did. It gave me time to think about your question,"

Ron frowned, puzzled, "My question?"

"You asked why I came along if I didn't want to do anything. What I thought we would be doing,"

"Oh, and, what did you want to do?" Ron asked softly, blaming his confusion on his tired mind.

Draco swallowed and looked at Ron for a moment. He moved his hold from Ron's wrist to his hand and loosely linked their fingers before closing the distance between them, touching their lips together gently, so softly it was barely a kiss. Ron stiffened in surprise, but Draco pulled away before Ron could react.

"I'm not sure how this happened, and I'm sorry if you don't want to live with me anymore, but I thought that maybe there could be a chance that…you'd want it too."

Ron reached out and touched Draco's shoulder, "I'm really sorry, Draco, but…"

Draco pulled away sharply and stood up, "It's okay, I just wanted to be honest with you," He turned his back and headed back for the bedroom.

Ron sat there for a moment, his exhaustion long gone, "Damn all," He muttered in frustration, "Once again, Ronald Weasley, you say the wrong thing," He pushed himself off the couch and headed for the bedroom as well.

He entered the dark room and could dimly see the shadow of Draco on the bed. Draco heard him enter and sat up, "Ron?"

Ron sat on the bed and pulled the covers over his body.

"What are you doing?" Draco squeaked as Ron wrapped his arms around the blonde and pulled him closer.

"I've thought of a new way to keep you warm. Now shut up and sleep," Ron mumbled, and kissed Draco lightly on the forehead.

Draco smiled softly to himself and snuggled closer to Ron, whose unending heat guided him easily into sleep.

--

Gah! Can't you just, like, not wait?! Well, the second part is "finished" and the third part is underway, and it looks like I have no intention of stopping any time soon...but judging by how perfect I want my first real "story" to be, it'll be awhile till I next update, the second chapter really needs some work in my opinion before I send it to my beta...who by the way, is more amazing than I could ever hope for and you should all throw her a grand party because without her this would have taken twice as long!!!

...and if you really need an update sooner, you wanna know something that gets me inspired? Lots and lots of **review**s!!!!


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